


Nothing Like Him

by mzamethystcrow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzamethystcrow/pseuds/mzamethystcrow
Summary: Anakin and Padmé have a misunderstanding while on Naboo. (This is a rewrite of I Need to Know. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2713123/1/I-Need-to-Know)
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Nothing Like Him

**Author's Note:**

> Published originally on Dec 21, 2005 over on ff.net. Decided to rewrite it and stick it here. :-)

_**~Anakin~** _

My first task without Obi-Wan isn't an easy one. The overload of information about the latest developments in the search for the leader of the Separatists is giving me a migraine. I'm tired of endlessly scrolling on the datapad, squinting at the tiny letters, hoping to find a hint or a clue as to who it is that threatens war against the Republic. My primary concern, however, still lies with finding out who is trying to kill Padmé. She has her suspicion it's Count Dooku, but there is no real proof. I want to believe her, so, I feel it's my duty to prove that Padmé is correct.

But it's not up to me to solve the mystery of the Separatists or to find out who is trying to assassinate her. I'm only supposed to protect her, so the Jedi Council and Obi-Wan warned me. But I feel compelled to do this for her sake and sanity, although, I haven't had much success in either area.

Propped against a mound of pillows, I rest against the massive headboard, leisurely lounging on the huge bed with my six-foot-one frame stretching the length of it, my legs crossed at the ankles. It's as comfortable as I can be with my neck aching from the odd angle of looking down at the datapad for hours on end. The dim light coming from the one lit floating lamp in the room doesn't help much, either.

Sighing, I've had enough. I drop the data pad to my chest and lean my head back against the pillow. A thunderstorm rages outside and it's my plan to relax. Perhaps something will come to me that I haven't thought of before, if I just ignore the mass of information in that blasted datapad.

However, the only thing that comes to mind is Padmé in a tight leather corset, worn earlier in the evening. It's amazing to me how one woman can change her clothes three times in one day, but it's just one of the things I love about the senator.

We were supposed to have arrived here as refugees, in disguise, yet she brought a mound of suitcases. Already, she has taken my breath away with that backless number and the kiss we shared on the balcony. But then… she wore a corset. A fucking corset! I'm already tortured just by being around her and yet, she wore a corset, one that affected me to the point of almost not being able to form coherent speech. I even told her that she torments my very soul because she affects me so much.

We'd sat by the fire, discussing how a future wasn't possible. Or rather, how I begged her like a fool to listen to me, slowly being drawn to her inch by inch. I'd jumped at the possibility that she has feelings for me, but she never really confessed she felt the same way. But, out of love for her, I'd decided to respect her wishes and leave her be. I would love her from afar, forever, even if she doesn't love me. She only has to ask a wish of me and I will do everything in my power to make that wish come true. All she has to do is command and I will obey.

She was right, after all, she's a senator and I'm a dutiful servant of the Jedi Order. I just have to give in to the idea that it will never work. It almost kills me to accept it, but I have to. Jedi are forbidden from becoming attached, to even know love and intimacy, the thought that it can lead down a dark path. Still, I'm perfectly willing to accept living a lie, but I can't ask that of her.

She has too much honor.

She's too precious to me—I can't force her to live a lie. And so, I agreed that I couldn't live a lie, either, and that was that. She'd made her decision and I have to accept it. I don't think I could cut through the tension in the air even with my lightsaber after that delicate conversation. So, we both retired to our respective rooms.

Knowing there was no way I'd be able to sleep tonight, I took to the task of solving a mystery.

My thoughts continue to center on Padmé, but I know the second she opens the door and tiptoes into my bedroom. Why is she still awake—and in my room? Granted, this is her lakeside retreat that we are hiding in, but still. I feel like I have some sort of privacy, even if it is her home. Not that I really mind her intrusion, but I'm still trying to sort out our complicated situation in my mind.

My Force senses tell me that she's hoping I'm awake. However, I keep silent and pretend to be asleep just to see what she will do. I can sense that she's disturbed about something, which is keeping _her_ awake. I don't want to pry into her mind any further to find out what she's thinking. I respect her privacy—and she has the natural ability to hide whatever she wants from me, whether she knows it or not. I just hope that she will resolve her issue soon. I haven't been able to sleep either because I've been so worried about her, the decision we have mutually made even if I fucking hate it, and the attempt on her life. I had hoped coming here would ease her mind because it was her home but it hasn't. Something else only seems to increase her worried mind.

And so I wait.

"Anakin? Are you awake?," she whispers, opening the door further to peak in on me.

She enters the room and tiptoes towards the bed, carefully avoiding my boots and most of my clothes, the dark layers upon layers of Padawan garb I usually wear, that's strewn all over the floor.

I can sense her hesitation as she hovers by the bedside. She's probably wondering if I am truly asleep or feigning it. But, it's when she leans over me to pull the datapad from my hand that I prove to her I'm not. She startles when I cover her hand with my own.

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to wake you," she blurts out, trying to step back, but I hold her hand preventing her from escaping.

"I wasn't asleep," I say quietly, sitting up. I toss the datapad onto the bed and focus my complete attention on her. I would like for her to sit down, beautiful creature that she is, but I feel her pull against my hand instead. Her feelings shift from curiosity to… bravery?

"Couldn't sleep, milady?" I'm rubbing the back of her hand, bringing a warmth to the cold flesh I feel. I don't miss that she shivers.

"Um, no," she says, backing up to force me to let go of her hand. She stands there for a moment, matching my eye contact, and I wonder what she's thinking. I feel like she's questioning my soul with her intensive and inquisitive stare.

I'm concerned that she doesn't say anything else. She's uncomfortable around me and that's upsetting. She's staring at me with wide brown eyes, chewing on her lower lip. Around her finger, she twirls a curl that has fallen down from the hair piled on top of her head.

It's mesmerizing.

The pink tinge to her cheeks is so damn sexy in the dim light of the room. Perhaps she's blushing because she's standing in front of me in a near _see-through_ nightgown, with pale pink flowers, and a blue robe.

Fuck, she really _is_ trying to torment me.

"Padmé, are you alright? You look upset," I ask, hoping my voice doesn't crack as I advert my eyes from the swell of her breasts. The woman really has no idea how much she affects me and I wish I could make her see. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and I'm about to stand up when she puts her hand out, stopping me.

"No, you stay right there, Anakin Skywalker. I need… I need to talk to you," she commands, saying my full name. She shifts the heavy dark blue robe over the thin slip of a nightgown she wears, tightening it around her chest before she crosses her arms. She begins the pace in front of the bed, while I look on, confused.

"I—I have a problem. And, it's all your fault," she says as if it's a matter of fact I should know this.

I blink, cocking my head, as I wait for her to continue. What in Mustafar is she talking about? What is my fault? I'd already confessed everything to her by the fire, so it couldn't possibly concern that. But, what have I done now? Everything else seemed to be my fault, now that I think about it. She's blamed me for being too arrogant about the whole "security" issue when we were in conference with the queen. Sure, she hadn't said it, but I could tell the thought was there. She still thought I was a child in many ways. Hadn't she said as much? Yet, that's what I was trying to convince her I was not. She'd also blamed me for the bumpy ride to Naboo, as if it was my fault a slight jolt caused her to slop her food on the table. She's probably even blamed me now for the swift thunderstorm that rages outside in the night.

I sigh and lean back against the pillows, lacing my hands together behind my head. I will allow her to conveniently blame me if it makes her feel better. I don't like seeing her upset. It's not like the confident Senator to be acting like a nervous wreck, especially around me. She seems to want to talk about whatever her problem is, however, but is having trouble getting it out.

"And that problem is?" I prompt with a wave of my hand, when she remains silent. I close my eyes again, hoping to settle back into the relaxed state I was in just before she entered my room, but the image of Padmé standing there in just her nightgown is now burned into my mind—instead of a corset.

"Have you ever been in love?"

That's the most absurd question I've ever heard. It's a trick question, right? Of course, I have! She _has_ to know how I feel about her, so why is she asking? Fuck, isn't that what I just told her by the fire?

I open my eyes to study her, to see if she's serious or if she's just teasing me.

There's no smile. No shy grin. Just dead seriousness behind those brown eyes. And she's expecting a serious answer to her ridiculous question.

I'm about to answer her, to tell her the the fucking truth, when she says, "I thought I was in love once. It was just after I became a member of the Senate." She stops her pacing to look at me. "It was the first time I had felt a man's touch." I quirk an eyebrow at her confession. "If you know what I mean," she clarifies.

I know exactly what she means and I feel like I've just been stabbed in the heart by a very blunt knife. I do my best to keep a stoic expression instead of letting the sudden rage I feel seep to the surface.

Another man has touched what is supposed to be mine and it pisses me the fuck off. All my life I've dreamed of being the one too—wait, she looks ashamed. Why does she look ashamed?

I gently nod, waiting for her to continue and I force myself not to explode in anger. I'm not sure why she's telling me this, but she's opening up to me and I want to pay close attention. She must have been innocent and I want to _kill_ whomever took that innocence from her.

Now would be a good fucking time to use some of those Jedi breathing techniques to remain clam. I will keep my calm, damn it.

"Do you remember when I told you about Palo? It was with him."

So it's Palo I need to kill. "I thought you went into politics and he went on to be an artist?" My tone is sharp.

"It was just after I became a Senator," she repeats, rushing out the rest. "An inaugural ball was held by the queen in my honor. Palo was there. I hadn't seen him in such a long time. He was a very handsome man. He had done a portrait of me from when I was a queen and gave it to me as a gift. It was a beautiful painting and a very sweet thing to do. He did it from memory, too. Seeing him brought back a lot of wonderful memories and feelings, Anakin. I guess I wanted to repay him." She stops in her speech and gives me a sad smile.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, my voice tight after the clap of thunder that shakes the room, sitting up. My fists are white with the pressure that I didn't know I was using to grip the edge of the bed.

"Because I allowed you to speak your heart. Please let me speak mine," she says and I snap.

I snap because by what fucking right does she have to _allow_ me to do anything?

_**~Padmé~** _

Anakin's suddenly become so cold, so distant. I've somewhat expected this, but I didn't think he'd be so… mean about it. Yes, I had allowed him to speak his heart, and he needed to do the same for me, that's why I'm telling him my truth. Besides, what right does he have to get to get so upset? I never promised him anything. I've only just been reunited with this man recently after ten years of not knowing him. The little boy had turned out to be my protector and savior, but at the moment I don't _know_ the man I see before me. The man before me is brooding, and the look in his eyes is dark and frightening.

"I thought he loved me, Anakin. I foolishly believed that he did. He told me he loved me, but he lied to me. He did all these things to make me believe him. He told me essentially the same thing you did and—"

"Is that what you think? You think I lied to you?" His voice drips with shock and venom. It's so calm, and yet so menacing.

Oh, is that why he's so cold now? He thinks that _I_ think he's lied to me? It sounds like I'm accusing him of doing the same thing, which of course isn't true.

I rush to the bed, sitting down next to him, hoping to explain what I mean. He snatches his hand away when I reach for it, my heart sinking when he moves away from me. It's a perfect parallel to what happened in front of the fire, but he does it with more speed and a hatred I know shouldn't be there.

I now have a sense of how it felt to him when I did the same thing.

"No, Anakin, no. That's not what I meant," I'm pleading with him to understand, as I've come at this all wrong. I try to grab his hand again, to pull him closer to me, but he jerks it away again.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

I don't know what's worse: the foolish assumption that I have inadvertently lead him to or that he's so angry, he won't even look at me—or touch me. Right now, I want to beg him for the same kiss he gave me earlier, on the balcony, just to know he doesn't hate me.

"Anakin, please listen to me, I—"

"Get out, Padmé. Just get out."Anakin is so angry, he's gritting his teeth at me in his command to leave.

This is my home, damn it, I'm not going anywhere.

I know I had told him there was no chance for us to ever be together, but that was before. I need him to hear me out before there can _be_ a chance for us now. I don't think of him as a little boy. I don't think of him as someone who would play games and lie to me about such an important issue. If he cares for me, he wouldn't do what Palo did, but he needs to know why I'm so hesitant to live a lie.

I feel the pull in my chest that comes before crying, something I haven't done in a long time. Attempts on my life, the loss of loved ones, physical pain, emotional scarring… none of which had ever caused me to cry. But this, Anakin's rejection and refusal to listen to my side of the story, is what does it.

I look away from him, unable to hold his glare. I catch the lightening outside as tears well up in my eyes. I wipe away the first one that falls as I stand up and slowly move to leave. I do not want him to see me cry, but I'm certain he's heard my soft sob. All the heartache that Palo had caused was nothing compared to what I feel because of Anakin's dismissal. I probably deserve some small amount of it. I've done the same thing to him, haven't I? I didn't think that it would mean so much to me how he felt, either in anger or in love, but it does.

I feel the pain of his rejection all throughout my body as he abruptly stands and turns his back to me. I know now that the man who confessed his soul meant it with all sincerity.

He really has grown up.

Anakin passes me as I turn, approaching the balcony doors and presses his forehead and hands against the cool glass, his breath leaving an imprint. His brow furrows at the loud clap of thunder that shakes the air and he winces. It hadn't occurred to me that he might have a headache, perhaps that's the reason for his change in mood.

Still, it was unfair. I was only trying to explain to him why I acted the way I had earlier and… no, damn it, it _was_ unfair. He doesn't know the whole truth of it and he has absolutely _no_ right to demand that I shut up when he hasn't heard everything I need to tell him. This was all his fault. If he hadn't opened his heart and soul to me, I wouldn't feel so guilty about lying to him in the first place. I never had before, but ever since meeting him again, my mind has gone completely haywire.

I can fight the battles of politics and war and win, but was I going to let him chase me out based on an assumption that was completely wrong?

Not on my life!

I'm not going to leave this room, unless by force, until he has listened to every word I have to say and he's going to apologize for growling at me. With my hands on my hips, I whirl around to confront him. If he truly loves me, he's going to prove it and that is that.

Very calmly and politely, I speak the words I know will send Anakin into a tizzy, for I feel this is not a man who likes to be told no, "Make me."

My statement is bold and I match his glare. "What did you say?" He asks as he turns around and approaches me. He looks as if he's about to head into a war with me as his enemy.

I should be frightened, but I'm not. I'm ready to face the threat that is Anakin Skywalker.

He's come to stand so close to me that I can feel the heat radiate off his chest. I have to tilt my head all the way back to stare up at Anakin, catching the dark warning that crosses behind his blue gaze. I know he's trying to intimidate me, but it won't work. Not this time. I try not to smile when he's astonished. He should be used to my bossiness by now, shouldn't he? Why, if he really thought I was so cruel as to assume he is the same as Palo, what I'm doing now shouldn't surprise him, right? So why is he looking at me like I'm a nut? Probably because I haven't obeyed his simple order to leave.

"You heard me, Anakin. Make me. I own this house and I'm not leaving this room," I state, standing my ground, daring him to throw me out. He's twice my size and strength, could do it easy, but I'm not going to let that scare me.

Oh, I feel like I can take on the Separatists all by myself at this moment with the scathing way he looks at me. Or, more appropriately, an even greater force in the universe, Anakin Skywalker.

_**~Anakin~** _

There's a mischievous twinkle in her bright, brown eyes. "Padmé, please, just leave. I have a headache and your not making it any better," I grate, taking a long blink because I'm now very weary. I clench my fists at my sides to keep myself from shaking some sense into the demented woman. Doesn't she know the dangerous ground she's standing on? She has already confused me terribly, just accused me of lying, and now… fuck, she has her chest pushed out in a defiant stance with her hands on her hips, the robe falling half off of her, as she glares up at me with those big, fiery brown eyes of her. More, I can smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, it's intoxicating and so very arousing, and my mind is conflicting with my body.

I don't think my situation can get any worse.

I'm wrong.

"That's too damn bad."

"Why are you doing this to me? Just to torture me more? You already…" I say, desperation in my voice as I sit back down on the bed, frustrated beyond my own belief. "You do so, even if you don't intend to." I rub my forehead with my hands, groaning. "Or do you?" I ask, lifting my head to look up at her with skepticism.

She marches to the bed, and towers over me as she lectures me. "Anakin Skywalker, how dare you think of me as a person who is intentionally cruel to you! I simply will not allow you to reject me like that."

There's that word again. _Allow_.

"Simply will not allow? Reject _you_? Padmé—" Waves of rage and incredulousness wash over me as I stand up. The woman thinks I've rejected her? I feel like pulling my hair out. How can she just expect me to take all that she's done to me? Granted, I'd swim in the lava fields at Mustafar if I had to for her because I love her, but not when I have a monstrous headache that she's only making worse by thinking I'd do such horrible thing like Palo did.

"Anakin, sit down!"

"I don't want to hear anymore—"

The next thing I know, is Padmé has shoved my lightsaber into my stomach with her finger on the trigger, pushed me down, and she's straddling me with her nightgown bunched around her thighs. Fucking straddling me!

"Anakin Skywalker, I swear to the gods above if you don't listen to me with what I have to say, I'll run you through with your own lightsaber," she states softly, scathing brown eyes inches apart from my blue ones.

I'm speechless. She's sitting on my lap with her weapon of choice in hand. My headache pales in comparison to the pain I feel in my groin. I'm rock hard as she shifts her hips against me not just once, but _twice_. I'm focused on the parted lips I so desperately want to taste again. For a moment, I forget what we've argued about until the gentle push I feel in my stomach reminds me of her intention.

I wonder if she actually would follow through with her promise if I don't listen to her. I want to test that theory until I look down. All my anger suddenly subsides and I want to laugh! The daft woman has my lightsaber pointed in the wrong direction and she has absolutely no idea. If she turns it on, she'll impale herself on it. I want to smile. Not at the thought of her death, but at how easily she has dissolved my anger.

"Alright, I'm listening," I concede as I gently push the lightsaber away from me and pry it out of her hands. I show her the right direction it should be in before I put it on the bedside table. She tries to leave my lap, but I refuse to let her go. I put my hands on her hips, to keep her from moving against my crotch.

"This is all your fault, Anakin Skywalker."

We are back to where we started. "For the love of… how is this my fault? And will you _please_ stop saying my full name as if you were swearing? If you think I'm just like Palo, then—"

"Anakin! I do not think you are just like Palo!"

"You don't?"

"No!"

"No? Then why did you say—"

"This is all your fault," she whispers as she shifts her hips, grinding on me, and I grit my teeth to keep from groaning.

"Padmé." Now I have a desperate, pleading tone of voice. I bite back the urge to whimper when she moves her hips again. "Stop that."

It's all clear now what she wants. "This is all your fault because you made me feel guilty about lying to you," she finally blurts out.

That makes no sense. It's clear she's lost her mind. "How did I make you feel guilty?" She's back to biting her lip, her blush returning as well. She's placed her hands on my chest and is staring at them. "What exactly did you lie about?"

"You're nothing like Palo, Anakin. You are so different. So, very, very different. Everything you say is so full of honesty and you mean it. You hide nothing," she confesses as she looks down at the fabric of the tunic she's twisting in her hands. "I wish I had waited for you," she whispers.

I'm not sure if I've heard her correctly, so I lift her chin with my fingers to look her in the eyes. "What?"

My voice isn't full of the anger this time. It's gentle and soft, and full of wonder like it was during our conversation in front of the fire. It must be what gives her the courage to continue. "Anakin, I was so very, very young when I let Palo do what he did to me. I thought I loved him, I really did. And when it was over, something just didn't feel right. The whole thing didn't feel right. There was no love there in his touch or his kisses or his lovemaking, just lust. It was so… common. I felt so common. I never heard from him again after that and it hurt me deeply. I thought I would never love another man, but I do." She looks up at me through long lashes.

I have trouble concentrating on what she's saying, as her hands are now under my shirt, splayed against my abdomen. I'm not sure she has any idea what she's doing, but I sure as hell do. I swallow hard listening to her as she continues. "I know now that I was used. I also know that you would never do anything like that to me. That with you, it would be different. It would _feel_ different. That's what I was trying to say earlier, before you snapped at me, that is."

It takes me a full minute to realize what she was saying—and then I feel like swamp scum. I've gotten angry with her for all the wrong reasons and all because I've jumped to conclusions. Something I'm not supposed to do at all because I'm a Jedi. But, she'd also just confessed… that she wants to… I want to apologize to her, to beg for her forgiveness, but a more nagging thought is suddenly on my mind. "What did you lie about?"

"I lied when I said I didn't want a future with you. I do. I'm just scared that it would destroy our lives," Padmé says, titling her head to the side and moving her hands up to my chest. "Do you care, Anakin?"

"Care about what, Padmé?" I breathe heavily, forgetting what we are discussing. She's using her hands to outline the muscles on my chest and arms under my shirt. For a reasons I can't explain, I reach up and take the ribbons out that hold her hair up, letting the mass of curls cascade all around her shoulders and back.

"Do you care if it destroys our lives?" She asks, bringing one of her hands up to caress my cheek. She shifts her position again and slowly closes the gap between us so that she's barely an inch away from me. She smiles when I finally groan.

"I think that…" I find it difficult to finish my sentence. She rubs her thumb against my bottom lip before running her fingers along my jaw line. I swallow hard before continuing, "I think that denying something that is completely natural destroys a life." I move my hands under her robe to rest higher on her waist, letting her grind her hips against me. "Ahh. You insane woman, what are you doing to me?" I beg an answer, closing my eyes.

"I need to know, Anakin," she whispers, almost touching my lips with her own once, twice, three times. One hand is threaded through my hair and the other is playing with the waistband on my pants.

"Need to know what?" I ask, gaining some strength to open my eyes and tilt my head back a little so that I can look at the woman tempting my resolve.

"I need to know how much you love me. More than words, Anakin," she says placing her fingertips over my mouth to silence the three words she knows I'm about to say. "I need you to show me just how much…" She moans—fucking moans!—licking her lips, when I push my hips up. The barrier of clothing between us drives me crazy.

"What are you asking of me?" I sound like I'm going to cry, my voice strangled, but I can't blame myself. She's teasing me, she knows it, and I'm letting her. Yes, she's torturing me and she knows that, too. And I'm letting her do it because I want it more than anything else in this life right now.

"I need you to show me how much you love me, Anakin. I need to feel what Palo couldn't give me." She leans back slightly and slowly pulls off the heavy robe she wears, watching me intently, as she continues to speak, "I want you, Anakin." I catch her impish smile when I abruptly turn my head to the side, not wanting to look at her disrob herself. She grabs my chin and forces me to look at her, when all that she wears now is her nightgown, half of it already bunched up past her thighs. "…to apologize."

"This is forbidden." That isn't what she wants to hear, apparently. I'm unable to hold back my load moan when she quickly jams her hips forward, bringing her face within inches of mine again. "Padmé, please… I can't do this," I say, realizing that I'm being a contradiction to my earlier self. I'd convinced myself that there could be love with no intimacy. Live a live without.

That wasn't what she wants to hear either, for now she's squeezing my jaw with a strength I didn't know she has. "I'll be thrown out of the Jedi Order if they find out. I've never… I've never done this before, Padmé," I confess. "Please…"

She cups both sides of my face and answers my pleas for understanding with one of her own, "I love you, Anakin Skywalker."

Fuck, my fate is sealed. As a clap of thunder echoes throughout the room, I become feral. The growl comes just before I slam my mouth down on hers, locking her in our future. She whimpers at the pressure I use to hungrily devour her mouth.

I don't give her any room—or air for that matter—to breathe a protest if she has any. My hands fist in her hair, while hers fists in my shirt. We pull at each other, as if we can't get enough of the other. Her mouth is so sweet, just like it was before, only this time I taste her over and over again, each time she tastes sweeter and sweeter. I'm not going to let that kiss, or any other kiss for that matter, become a scar. I invade her mouth with my tongue and she responds in kind, and with much more aggression than I expect.

I want to scorch her, hear her pant in my ear, know her cries mix with my own. I want Padmé, consequences be damned. This is a forbidden act, which makes it all the more enticing. But right now, I want the damn clothing I wear off and out of her way. She's lifted herself off my lap and is tugging at the gauzy tunic I wear.

I break the kiss, breathing heavily, and lift my arms. I let her pull the tunic over my head and toss it to the floor. A second passes before she's back in my arms again and I'm bruising her lips. I turn us both so that I'm leaning back against the propped up pillows at the head of the bed. She follows, continuing to cradle my hardness.

I halt my assault when she pulls at the waistband of my pants. I capture her hand in one of mine and push it behind her back, not allowing her to divulge me of all my clothing just yet. I use my other hand to slip the thin string attached to her nightgown off her shoulder. I nip at the skin there with my teeth when she pulls my hair with her other hand in protest.

I grin against her shoulder when she whispers my name, forcefully tugging on my hair. I know she wants me to kiss her again, but instead I take a moment to just study Padmé. Her dark brown hair is in disarray about her shoulders, her almond eyes are glazed over with passion, her cheeks are pink, and her lips are rosy and swollen from my kisses. An arrogant twinge runs through me in satisfaction. I wonder if that fucker Palo had ever been able to make her burn like this.

I release her hand and begin to feed her fire by caressing the outside of her smooth thighs. Ever so slowly, I inch up the delicate material of her nightgown under my hands. I watch her drop her head back, moaning slightly, when I move my hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin there. When I stop, she's staring down at me, waiting for me to make my move.

"What?" She asks, sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that has fallen forward when she tilts her head down.

I say nothing, just simply tug on her nightgown, wanting it off of her.

Padmé gracefully lifts her arms up, allowing me to pull the nightgown up and over her head. She's left facing me, clad only in her matching panties. She shivers, the coolness of the room reaching her flushed skin. She folds her arms against her, covering her breasts and I shake my head. She absolutely will not hide herself from me, not now.

I gently pull her arms to the side, letting me see what I've longed to know. I'm thankful my mind hadn't been playing tricks on me when it came to my fantasies of what she looked like under all those elaborate gowns. I never imagined any one woman could look so perfect. Her skin looks so smooth and her body so soft. She had round, full breasts and a tiny, semi-athletic figure. And she was mine, now and forever, no matter if being with me is taboo or not.

During my appraisal of Padmé, some of her hair has fallen forward, covering her breasts again, blocking them from his view. I'm having none of that. I sit up, pulling her close to me again. I lick my lips, seeing just a hint of her nipples peeking out from under her hair. I take my sweet time, gently brushing the dark curls away and over her shoulder. The dark pink nubs hovering in front of me are just waiting to be savored.

I can sense her anticipation and excitement, not not knowing what I'm going to do to her. It's erotic, my movements are slow with a care, but it's my own little way to torture her. Her breathing is coming in shudders now as she watches the way my mouth closes around a nipple. I use my thumb to tease her other one into a hard pebble, kneading and cupping her breast. She's biting her lip and letting out a small cry and I use my tongue to spear across the flesh, again and again. I release it from my mouth, only to take the same nub between my teeth, pulling ever so slightly, making her gasp in pleasure. I alternate between using my tongue and my teeth several times before doing the same to her other breast. I know the tugging and pulling is driving her crazy.

I can feel the wetness through her panties on my lower stomach as she rhythmically moves her hips against me. I know she's was ready for me, but I'm not exactly certain I can do what Palo hasn't done. However, I'm determined to make up for Palo's immaturity of love. Releasing the nipple from my mouth with a wet pop, I look up at her. Her eyes are closed, but the serene look on her face is enough to convince me that I am already doing something right. I sure as hell hope so, because I don't think I can stand being confined in my pants any longer. She's going to get exactly what we both want and more.

"Take off your panties, Padmé."

The gruff command brings Padmé out of the haze of foreplay. She loosens the grip she has on my hair and bends down to slip off the last bit of fabric on her body. She's slow to do it, keeping her eyes on me the whole time. Her pupils are wide, full of craving and desire. I watch, my gaze following the path her hands take as she crosses them across her stomach, completely naked and shy now.

As soon as she drops the lingerie off the side of the bed, I lean forward and kiss the spot just above the patch of dark curls that rests between her legs. I want to go down further, but her impatience demands my attention. I lean back against the pillows when she pushes me with haste, allowing her to fumble with the buttons at my waistband. I make no effort to help her, as she seems determined to get my pants off all by herself. I grin when she becomes frustrated that her efforts to confiscate them aren't working. When she sighs, I lift my hips, allowing her to continue. She pulls them off, finally releasing my erection that has been plaguing me ever since she tip-toed into my bedroom.

I'm lithe and strong, with muscles toned by years of exercise and training, so I'm able to just hold her above me. The blush returns to her cheeks when she tells me she wants to taste me and I groan. Instead of giving in, she accepts my request for a kiss and holds onto the headboard, moving to straddle me again. The surge of desire coming from her is palatable. She wants to _feel_ me. I place my hands on her hips, slowly lowering her down onto myself. She gasps and I know she's feeling a whole hell of a lot more than she had with Palo.

It's excruciatingly slow, entering Padmé, and I groan when I'm fully planted inside her. It's fucking _wonderful_. How can anyone forbid this? She fits me perfectly and… oh fuck, she moves. All thoughts pertaining to how or why this is forbidden disintegrates when she lifts her hips again, squeezing me as as my length leaves her.

She increases her pace, using the headboard to lift herself up and off of me. I move my hands up to cup her breasts, groaning at the sensations the friction between us is causing.

I lift my hips to meet her when a sudden thought occurs to me. "Is this how you did it with him?" I ask when I have enough sense to find words. "Did he fuck you this way?" My words are filthy for a Jedi, but I don't care.

"Wha—What?" Padmé moans. "Um, yes. At first."

I force her to stop by grabbing her hips. I sense her immediately confusion.

"Then we won't do it this way," I state, sitting up. I pry her hands off the headboard, holding them out to her sides so that she can't move.

"Anakin, why—" she begins to fuss.

"Turn around," I demand, my voice full of sex and lust. She looks baffled, so I repeat what I say and pull on her arms to get her to follow my command.

She complies, turning herself around, still keeping me inside her. She relaxes against me and I feel the heat of her back against my chest. I pull her hair over her shoulder and my voice grates in her ear.

"We won't do it that way," I simply explain again, imposing all my Jedi politeness into my voice.

I run the back of my hand down the side of her arm, causing her to shiver. A wicked idea pops into my head when I see the two ribbons that held her hair up lying not far from where our hips are joined. Padmé notices when I scoop them up in my hand.

"Anakin," she whimpers, trying to move but my arm is wrapped around her waist preventing her from going anywhere. "What are you—"

"Do you trust me, sweetheart?" I ask, kissing her shoulder.

"Yes."

Her immediate reply pleases me because I know she always _has_. It gives me all the permission I need. I lean back, pulling her down with me. I'm now in a half sitting position, propped against the pillows. Her back rests against my chest, her legs between mine.

I try to lift her arms above her head, but she resists. "I won't ever hurt you, Padmé," I say, once again trying to move her arms.

It's the excitement of not knowing what my intentions are or what I'm going to do next that she's unsure about is what I sense and I smile.

She nods and relaxes against me, and I'm able to bring her hands up together and place them to rest on the center wood knob to the headboard. I use the ribbons to tie her hands together and then to the knob.

"I promise, sweetheart," I say with all sincerity because I'd die first before I hurt her. "I'll show you I love you and more. I'll do more than he could ever do," I whisper, putting my plan into motion. I cup her breasts, gently fondling them as I continue, "I'll make you forget you had ever been with him. You were meant for me, Padmé. I will love you and protect you forever." Not telling her what I'm going to do, I place my hands behind her knees and slowly spread her legs apart. "Do you know what the overactive imagination of a man who's never had sex can come up with, Padmé?"

"Uunngh," is all that Padmé could answer. I stretch her legs wide and she's secured in such a fashion and position that she's now at my mercy, to where I can take advantage of her at will. Her legs are now spread wide on either side of mine.

I bring my own knees up, pushing deeper into her. The gasp that follows makes me smile… until she bucks her hips against me.

"Anakin, please," she begs, moving restlessly against me.

I decide enough is enough and stop toying with her. My lips meet hers as I use her thighs as leverage to pull her up, then down, making myself slide out of her. I bend my knees under her and lift my hips, thrusting into her, while I pull her down onto me. The movement causes her to squeeze me and I almost drop her legs. I take a deep breath and lift into her again, gripping her thighs more firmly.

It feels so damn good what I'm doing to her. She can't do anything but twist against her restraints and pant into the side of my neck as I fuck her, and when I increase my rhythm, then keep it slow, it'll drive her insane.

She gasps loudly and says my name when I pull her legs closer to her chest, still keeping them wide. I'm using my legs to lift myself into her as much as I want, while slamming her down onto me.

I'm not even sure if she's registering all the naughty little things I'm saying to her. She's biting her lower lip so hard, I'm sure she's going to draw blood. I, myself, am doing everything in my power to keep from releasing my seed into her and screaming like a madman at the tightness I feel each time I enter her. My palms are becoming sweaty and I'm losing my grip on her and quite possibly my own sanity.

Her whimpers have become cries and her cries have become screams of my name, proving to me that I've succeeded in my goal to prove I'm a better man than Palo was in the way she wants. I want nothing more now than to surge into her over and over until I get my own release.

Feeling her arch her back, I drop her legs to the bed, letting her shiver for only the fewest of seconds. I stop pumping into her, leaving her body before I slip out from underneath and turn over above her. I don't think Padmé has the strength to wrap her legs around my waist, so I do it for her.

Her hands still being held hostage by ribbons, I wrap my hands around hers before surging into her with as much strength as I can find. Her gasps mix with my heavy panting as I continue to pound into her, this time using the headboard as leverage.

"Padmé… I love you… so…much."

My orgasm rages throughout my body as if I've just been hit by one of the lightning bolts that strikes outside. I cry out as I explode inside of the woman writhing below me through her own orgasm, forcing me to continue pumping into her until I'm spent. Finally I halt, arching my back as wave after wave of blissful throbbing washes over me, until I collapse on Padmé.

"Oh Gods…"

I lift my head, realizing that she's crying softly beneath me. I snap the ribbons, allowing her hands to be freed.

Wiping away her tears with both hands, I beg to know if she's all right.

"Padmé? Are you okay? Don't cry… please?"

She looking up at me, and I'm softly stroking her hair, my gaze questioning her brown, wanting to know if she was all right.

I need to know, I project, hoping she understands.

She smiles and nods, mouthing a thank you before pulling my head down for a soft kiss, one full of love and hope for the future.

"No… no… mom…no!"

I jerk awake from my horrible dream, gasping for air and trying to regain some sense of where I am. Looking to my side, I see Padmé sleeping softly on her stomach next to me. The sight of her there instantly calms me, but I'm still concerned about the vision I saw.

One of my mother in pain, near death.

I have to do something about it, anything, to try and save her. Padmé must understand. I will beg and plead with her to understand that this is what I have to do.

With that thought in mind, I turn onto my stomach, resting my face on her shoulder, hoping to claim some of the sweet dreams I know she must be having…


End file.
